


Mornin' Blues

by gramonist



Category: Blur (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23421991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gramonist/pseuds/gramonist
Summary: 'Friend', Damon thought. He felt a tinge in his chest. 'That’s all he’ll ever be.'
Relationships: Damon Albarn/Graham Coxon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	Mornin' Blues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ictsgn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ictsgn/gifts).



> please enjoy my gramon pwp it is the result of many many moons of panicking and stressing over whether or not my writing makes any sense whatsoever. special thanks to lil for beta-ing and even more so for putting up with all of my incessant bitching!

Graham stirred in the bed, fast asleep, dreaming something vivid that made his hands shake and his body twist. Damon, sitting up in the same bed with a book, snuck a glance at the boy beside him and sighed. He’d tried hard to concentrate on the words, but it seemed impossible tonight. Once he started looking at Graham, he couldn’t stop. He clicked off the bedside lamp and settled back into the bed, turning over onto his side to get a better view of his friend. 

_Friend_ , Damon thought. He felt a tinge in his chest. _That’s all he’ll ever be_. Damon rolled onto his back, eyes glued to the ceiling, but he still saw Graham’s face; saw him leaning into Damon’s side at the movies last week, saw him smiling and laughing yesterday at the supermarket, saw him grabbing his hand and pulling him into his room last night. He saw the sparkle in Graham’s eyes, the kind he’d pretended not to notice but definitely did. He saw his hands and the way they shook ever so slightly when they reached to pull on Damon’s shirt. He tried so hard not to, but still he saw Graham kiss him, a wet mess of alcohol and spit pressed against his lips. Damon knew it was meaningless. Graham was a horny drunk, and Damon was in his bed. That was the only explanation needed. 

Damon felt bad that the kiss sent him reeling. Graham was his best friend. They’d known each other since they were little and they did everything together: playdates in the sandbox, lunch dates in the high school cafeteria. But one drunken kiss and Damon was thinking about _real_ dates with Graham. He thought about going to dinner and holding hands under the table. He thought of movie dates, the two of them sat in the back of the theatre, not paying attention to the show at all. Both of those thoughts made his stomach flutter. Both of them made him feel sick. 

Damon’s thoughts were interrupted by Graham rolling over, sidling up to him and sighing with contentment. He froze and held his breath and absolutely did _not_ think about leaning into the warmth of the blankets and wrapping his arms around his friend, or placing the smallest of kisses on his forehead, or even _worse_ , kissing him for real until he woke up and could reciprocate. That wouldn’t be fair. He didn’t think about grabbing Graham’s hand, either, even when it was laying so close to him, beckoning him. He didn’t think back to the kiss or what could have happened had he kissed Graham back. He didn’t think a whole lot of anything for the rest of the night. He didn’t dream about any of those scenarios, either. 

Damon _did_ , however, jolt awake to the sound of either a fire alarm, air raid siren, or, more realistically, just Graham’s alarm clock. When his eyes shot open, he saw his friend sitting up, hair sticking out everywhere, laughing at him. Damon felt a tug on his heart and ignored it. He had hoped the feeling would’ve disappeared overnight. 

“You bastard, why do you keep that thing on,” he complained and shielded his eyes against the light. Graham snorted in response and stretched, his shirt riding up just a little. Damon was suddenly grateful for the sun’s blinding rays. His friend stepped out of bed and into his slippers, heading towards the bathroom with a yawn, and he was grateful to be alone. Damon got out of bed himself, pulling the comforter up to the edge and smoothing it over. 

When Damon found his way to Graham’s kitchen, there was only one clean bowl. Normally the two would just eat out of the same dish. They’d probably even share a spoon. It wasn’t a big deal then, _so why was Damon rushing to wash a dirty one in the sink before his friend saw now?_ He poured them both a bowl of cereal and ignored the dining room table to instead set them on the coffee table in front of Graham’s TV. An episode of _Red Dwarf_ came to life on it, and Damon leaned back, careful not to spill any of his breakfast on his friend’s sofa. 

When he heard footsteps on the staircase, Damon felt nervous and straightened up ever so slightly in his seat. He’d never felt uncomfortable around Graham before, and the sudden change was driving him insane. It was a just a dumb kiss that the other boy didn’t even _remember_. It didn’t mean anything to him. It didn’t mean anything at all to Graham. It was nothing, and yet it was everything, and Damon couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“OH,” Damon could hear the excitement in Graham’s voice, “this is the one where Lister loses his arm!” Damon had no idea who Lister was. He never paid much attention to _Red Dwarf,_ but he laughed and nodded like he had. Graham plopped on the seat next to him and grabbed the cereal that was beginning to get soggy from off of the table. Damon tried hard to get comfortable, he relaxed his shoulders and leaned back, but the anxiety tightened his chest and made him feel like he was choking. Sitting next to Graham felt like being repeatedly punched in the stomach today, when every other day it felt normal and easy. 

Damon got lost in his own thoughts again, only returning to real life when Graham laughed or clanked his spoon against the bowl. He wondered if his friend remembered last night at all; he didn’t seem to be hungover but he had been so _drunk_ , it didn’t make sense. He wondered what Graham would think if he found out that they’d kissed, he wondered if he’d be upset or angry or both, or if he would accept it and laugh it off or if he would blush and stammer an apology. He wondered so much that by the time the episode of the show had ended, he still had half a bowl of cereal left. Graham was drinking the remnants of his own and wiping his mouth, when Damon blurted out, “Do you remember last night?” 

He regretted asking the question as soon as it left his mouth. He panicked, his brain a storm of _ohgodohgodohgod_ ’s and _whatifhedoes-whatifhedoesn’t-whatifhedoes_ ’s. Graham had gone silent, which wasn’t doing anything to ease Damon’s mind. He snuck a glance at his friend out of the corner of his eye and saw Graham’s eyebrows drawn together like he was in as deep of thought as Damon was. The silence that lasted maybe thirty seconds seemed to last 30 minutes, and his brain was self destructing as the time went on until Graham opened his mouth. 

“I remember leaving the bar…,” he spoke slowly, like he was wracking his brain. “I think that’s it.” 

All Damon could muster in response was an “Oh,” and then he felt even more like an idiot. _Why do I talk?_ Graham gave a breathy laugh and glanced weirdly at him, like he had questions of his own. Damon hoped he would just drop it. Damon hoped he would forget the question and get lost in the next _Dwarf_ episode, but the credits seemed to roll forever, and his hopes were dashed anyways, because Graham asked exactly what he was dreading. 

“Why do you ask?” _Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck_. Damon scoured his brain for a way out of this mess, but it was a lost cause. Still, he tried and hoped that Graham let it be once again. 

“Just wondered,” said Damon, and Graham cocked his head to the right to look at his best friend with an expression somewhere between worry and amusement. _Of course he won’t._

“What happened?” he asked, and then it was Graham who looked nervous, biting at his nails. “Did I do something wrong?” 

“No,” Damon answered a little too fast and startled even himself. He took a breath. “Nothing… Nothing happened. You just ain’t got much of a hangover.” It wasn’t exactly a lie; it was bizarre, but he knew how much alcohol Graham consumed on a regular basis. He was bound to have some sort of tolerance. 

“Oh,” Graham mimicked Damon’s tone, adding, “No, I guess I don’t.” 

It wasn’t a joke, there was nothing funny about it, but Damon laughed nervously and downed the rest of his breakfast to distract him from the tension. He stood up and took Graham’s bowl too, setting them in the sink and splashing water into both of them. He reveled in the short moment alone and took a deep breath, but when he turned to leave the kitchen, Graham was standing in the archway. 

“I don’t get it.” 

“What?” Damon was staring wide eyed at his best friend, like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Graham had his arms crossed over his chest, and he ignored the question. The tension grew between them as they stood in the kitchen, each staring at the other and wondering what they were thinking. Then, he dropped his arms with a sigh. Damon’s friend rushed towards him, an unreadable expression adorning his face. He stopped for a second, face to face with the boy he’d been friends with since preschool, the boy he’d sat with almost every day, the boy he talked to about nothing and everything, the boy who knew him better than anyone else. Then, Graham closed the gap between them. 

Damon jolted back on accident, slightly shell-shocked with flashbacks from the night before. But this was different. This was sober Graham, lips warm and soft and dry, nothing like the alcohol-ridden kiss they’d previously shared. This was a real kiss and both of them were in on it. Damon couldn’t comprehend it, couldn’t understand how Graham knew about the kiss, if he’d just guessed, if he’d lied about remembering, if he’d even really been drunk in the first place, but the over-analysis took a backseat as he leaned back into the kiss. 

It was heated from the beginning, almost bruising, the way their lips smashed together in Graham’s kitchen. Damon spun them around, pressing Graham hard against the sink and exhaling through his nose. His friend’s mouth tasted like a mix of cereal and peppermint, with a dash of just _him_ , and he couldn’t get enough of it. They parted for a split second to breathe, and he locked eyes with Graham. His pupils were blown, the lust radiating off of him and kicking Damon in the stomach. He ignored the way the room was spinning around them and lifted Graham onto the counter, spreading his legs open to stand between them and kiss him again. 

Damon pressed his hand against Graham’s chest and ran it down past his stomach, straight to the hem of the shorts he always wore to bed. He wiggled away from the touch, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead on his shoulder and breathe. 

“You okay?” Damon whispered, his voice raspier than he expected, shocking even himself. Graham glanced up and nodded. He looked like he’d been fucked already, cheeks burning a bright pink, glasses crooked and eyes the size of the moon. Damon reached to take off his glasses for him and leaned past him to set them on the edge of the sink. When he returned, he snuck a glance at Graham’s shorts, which were pulled tight over his erection, and smirked. He locked eyes with his friend and placed his hand over his cock, earning a choked _fuck_. Graham screwed his eyes shut tight, bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and tried to sit still while Damon touched him. 

He pulled away too soon, though, and Graham gasped at the loss, reaching for his arm. Damon was busy back at the hem of his shorts, though, dipping his fingers past the waistline. He sought out another kiss, distracting Graham while he pulled his shorts all the way down and took his cock into his hand for real. Graham jumped, eyes shooting open and teeth chomping down, catching Damon’s tongue in the bite. 

“OW, you bastard,” he shouted, letting go of Graham altogether and frowning. He laughed and wrapped his legs around Damon’s, pulling him back. 

“Your fault,” he whispered, and it shouldn’t have been seductive, but Damon could feel himself get even harder in his pajama pants, if at all possible. Graham kissed at his throat and fumbled with the tie that kept his pants up until it came loose. He copied him, pulling his pants down by the hem, but something stopped him. 

“Why do you wear these,” he whined, and Damon snorted. 

“They’re just underwear. Maybe you should try them sometime, slut.” The comment was lighthearted, meant as a joke, but all the humor was lost when he saw the way Graham’s eyes darkened. Something changed, the dynamic of the situation altered, and Damon’s cock ached with want. 

Damon pushed Graham back a tiny bit more, light fingers running down his erection, teasing him. His friend had trouble breathing, shaking under his hands and begging him to “just fuck me already, _please_.” The glint in Damon’s eyes brightened and he tried to hide his smile as he knelt down ever so slightly. Graham’s breathing was erratic already, but it stopped altogether when Damon licked at the wetness on his cock and pulled away. He reached his hands out to his hair, running them through the soft, short spikes until Damon returned to lick at it once again and took just the head into his mouth. 

Graham shouted, head banging hard against the cabinet right behind him. Damon sucked hard once and then pulled off, licking at the slit and looking up so his eyes met his friend’s. He made a strangled noise, and his thighs shook so close to Damon’s face. 

“God, you’re so...” Damon trailed off in a whisper just loud enough for Graham to make out. He responded with a moan, reaching to push the back of his head forwards, back onto his cock. He obeyed for once, taking Graham back into his mouth, his hand wrapped around the base. Damon sucked him down to where his fist stopped and let go, sinking back down and repeating a few times until he felt Graham’s hands twist in his hair almost painfully. Then, he pulled off and groaned out of frustration, taking a moment to rub himself against Graham’s leg through his underwear. Graham huffed out a laugh and sat up, placing his hand over Damon’s cock. 

Damon mewled, stepping even closer to his friend, letting him take control this time. He watched Graham’s hands pull his underwear down and take him into his hand. He was already leaking when Graham started to jack him off, his thumb rubbing over the slit. He choked back a high-pitched moan, grabbing Graham’s cock in return. They stood and jacked each other off for a while, until Damon started to gasp, eyes rolling back into his head. 

“I’m gonna—” he started, when Graham tore his hand away. 

“No—you—” Whatever Damon was going to say was lost when he watched Graham hop off the counter and sink to his knees. He was hidden from sight between the bottom of the counter and Damon’s legs, and he gripped his ass, taking his cock into his mouth. Damon shouted, and rocked into the warmth and wetness like he couldn’t help himself. Graham tried not to choke, breathing slowly through his nose, and let Damon grip his mouth and fuck into it until he came. 

The dizziness blended into darkness and a high-pitched soaring noise screaming in his ears. He didn’t know if it was just him or if the house had caught on fire or if there was an air raid or if it was just Graham’s dumbass alarm again but it got louder and louder every second. Something in his stomach was pressing him down, nearly pulling him to the ground and then all at once it dropped out. Everything faded to white and he came hard, shoving himself down Graham’s mouth, forgetting to be careful. It hurt and Graham choked a little but he let Damon ride it out, swallowed again and again as he finished coming, and eased off when it was over. 

It took a moment for him to come back to his senses, and while Graham was waiting he stroked himself, staring at the blissful expression covering Damon’s face. When Damon finally remembered where he was, he returned the favor and got onto his knees, not sucking Graham off but licking at the head of his cock while he jacked him off. Graham was coming minutes later, the spring in the lowest pit of his stomach tightening and tightening and then coming loose, waves of pleasure rolling over his entire body. Damon did the same as he did, swallowing as he came down and then relaxing on the kitchen floor where their clothes had been thrown. 

The air between them was still, filled with nothing except their heavy pants and sighs. They were both in shock, both disbelieving, both disheveled and breathless. Neither one could speak. The two sat there in disbelief, soaking in what had just happened. Eventually, Graham broke the silence. “And you called _me_ a slut, dirty bastard.”

Damon snorted, easing himself off of the kitchen floor. He reached out a hand to help Graham up too, and together they pulled their clothes back on. Walking back back into the living room where _Red Dwarf_ continued, Graham gleefully pointed out the episode being about “basketball and erections”. They sat next to each other on the sofa. This time, it was different. It wasn’t tense, it wasn’t uncomfortable or weird anymore, but Damon had started to _think_ again, his brain a mess of _whatdidwedowhatdidwedowhatdidwedo_ ’s and _ohgodohgodohgodohgod_ ’s, and Graham was biting his nails again. Damon didn’t know what they were or who they were or what would happen from then on, but he knew that he loved Graham, and he knew Graham loved him. 

“So, are you gonna tell me about last night?” Graham’s voice was soft and had a smile hidden beneath it, breaking Damon from his overthinking cycle once again. He breathed out a laugh and glanced at Graham with a lazy grin across his lips. 

“Why don’t you tell me?” 


End file.
